Home Lies Where You Are
by LostInLost18
Summary: Set in season three. Locke doesn't blow up the submarine, and Jack manages to get off the island - leaving Kate behind. He starts a relationship with Juliet but is driven crazy by the guilt he feels until he's left with one conclusion - he has to go back.
1. Chapter 1: Broken Promises

_Home Lies Where You Are_

Chapter 1: Broken Promises

"_I asked you not to come back for me and I- I wish that you hadn't."_

_He hated the fact that every word he was hurling at her was as much a lie as it was the truth. This was a dangerous situation he didn't want her getting in the middle of. He'd risked his own life so that she and Sawyer could have a chance at escaping._

"_But I will come back here for you…"_

_His lips were pressed against her ear, whispering a secret only she was privy to. He saw the tears glistening in her eyes and wanted to comfort her; he wanted to convince her he wasn't on _their _side, but he knew the words would sound false on his lips, especially when he'd basically told her he regretted her being here, like he didn't care when he so obviously did. _

_He lingered there for a moment, his lips by her ear. She was unresponsive, although he noticed her face was scrunched up in pain, a fact he wished he could alter. She'd risked her life to rescue him and he'd basically slapped her in the face and told her it was all for nothing. He felt so ashamed, so guilty, but he knew he had an opportunity to get her rescued - get them all rescued - and he was going to take it. _

"_Bye," he whispered, as he hovered by the door._

_He didn't know what he was waiting for - some sign maybe that she'd heard what he'd said; for her to fight back, ignoring what he'd said; a sign that she was unwilling to let him go - but he knew he couldn't waste any more time saying goodbye. _

_It just hurt too much and, believe it or not, he was doing this for her. _

_He'd had this half fancy that he could've persuaded Ben to let her come on board the submarine too. They could've escaped together, and fled like fugitives the moment their feet touched surface which wasn't sand or jungle terrain. _

_Then, the image of her curled up in Sawyer's arms flooded his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let his heart shatter again. He'd come up with a million theories as to why she'd been in his arms - each as unlikely as the next - until he'd accepted the bleak, heartbreaking possibility that maybe he wasn't the one she loved. _

_He wandered into the night, an equally quiet Juliet by his side, navigating his way to Ben's house, his head spinning as stills from their brief time together flickered across his mind like a dodgy copy of a movie. He'd convinced himself, to an extent, that his decision to leave, to go back home without her, was for her benefit, and that his primary purpose in doing this was to secure rescue for his friends. _

_In his head, that was why he was doing it. _

_In his heart…he knew he was running away. _

_It hurt to leave, but it hurt even more to stay. And he knew he'd made his decision the moment Ben had offered him that deal… _

X-X-X

Present Day

It was nearing midnight when he stumbled out of the car. He was a far cry from the level headed, calm, rational man he'd been on the island. Now, he had a beard and was popping pills like there was no tomorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and sunk into his skin, leaving visible marks around them. He resembled a vagabond in appearance, not to mention he was constantly thinking about a home he'd never really had. These dark thoughts were dragging him down; the more he thought about her, the deeper he fell.

Jack saw the flash of headlights as another car - navy blue from what he could gather - pulled into the view. Overhead, he heard the roar of airplanes shooting across the sky like race cars, and he bowed his head as it all came flooding back.

The car in question pulled to a stop, and the door opened. A tallish figure stepped forwards, out of the darkness, and he had to blink a few times to focus on her face. She was somehow more beautiful than he remembered, and the pain etched on her face seasoned him with fresh guilt, knowing he'd done this to her. He'd dragged her down to the gutter with him, only she'd come out of it much stronger and almost brutal with the way she treated him.

"Hey," she greeted him, her eyes cold.

He couldn't quite believed they'd reached this point: the point of no return, where they'd ceased fighting simply because they no longer cared. Now, the rare times they spoke were laced with bitterness, despair and deep regret. They both knew getting together had been a huge mistake but it'd been right at the time. Their hearts hadn't completely been in it at the time but they'd forsaken morality and their own hearts for the sake of companionship. And they both regretted it, though they handled that regret in very different ways.

"Hey," he said, his voice croaky and his eyes sunken with misery. "You-You got my message then?"

"All fifty of them," she replied lightly, a tight smile crossing her lips. "Why did you choose this spot to meet? Seems kind of…ironic."

He chuckled darkly, rubbing his head as a mild flash of pain stirred itself into life.

"S'reason I chose it, Jules," he slurred, moving towards her.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, shutting her eyes tightly as if trying to eradicate a certain memory from her head. "Just call me Juliet, Jack, same as always."

"What, can't I even call you Mrs Shepherd anymore?" he asked, chuckling ironically, though there was nothing funny about the situation.

"As of three o'clock today, no," Juliet replied, her eyes bursting with pain he wished he could heal.

There was a lot he would've changed if he could, and one of them would've been saying a completely different name at the altar. He still saw her in his dreams and it was to his lasting regret that he'd left her completely broken; his punishment, to that effect, was that that image of her was how he saw her in all his dreams.

"I suspect you didn't hound my answering machine just to talk about our divorce, Jack, so let's have it," Juliet said coolly, folding her arms as she stared at him.

"I was just wondering if you were going to the funeral," he mumbled, handing her a scrunched up bit of paper.

She stared at the paper, absorbing the words on it carefully. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and he waited for her answer like a man with no other options. He felt like that man every day now, and his life had become something needed to be fixed and not the other way around.

"Why would I go to the funeral?" she eventually said, handing it him back. "It's sad he's gone but…"

"He was right!" Jack suddenly yelled, stepping forward. "We shouldn't have left! We weren't supposed to leave, Juliet."

She stared at him like he was an insane stranger who'd approached her in the street. She had no idea how to respond to that ludicrous statement, verbally or otherwise.

"Yes, we were," she said slowly, her voice no higher than a murmur.

"We need to go back," Jack continued, convinced he was right.

A tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek. Right now, she couldn't see a single trace of the man she'd married and it physically hurt her to see him like this. She'd tried to help many times, either by pushing rehab leaflets through his door or booking him into clinics he never attended, but she had to accept her Jack - who'd never really been hers to begin with - was gone.

"No, we don't!" she snapped, near enough yelling. "I spent three years trying to get away from that place and, now I have, I don't intend to go back. Ever."

He stared at her, completely bewildered by the hostility in her voice. Kate wouldn't have spoken to him like this - would she? The women in his life, he decided, were very complex people who confused the hell out of him at the best of times, infuriating him at the worst.

Juliet turned to leave, hesitating at her car door as she pictured a happier, lighter, more rational Jack.

"Can I ask you something?" she said, her voice trembling as she tried to phrase the question as best she could. "Was it ever me?"

Jack lowered his head; he didn't really need to think about the answer. He'd dated - and then married - Juliet for all the wrong reasons, the worst of which was to dispel the image of that freckled faced, curly haired beauty who haunted all his dreams. He wanted to go back to fulfil that broken promise, the promise he'd made when he'd broken her heart out of some sort of petty revenge for her breaking his. He missed her, more than anything, and he missed his friends, all of whom were still on the island. He'd taken the coward's way out, and he hated himself for it.

"No," he admitted, his voice coming out as barely more than a whisper. "It was always Kate."

Juliet nodded, surprised how upset she felt by it - it wasn't an answer she hadn't expected to hear, and at least he was being honest.

"Bye, Jack," she mumbled, before getting into her car.

Jack watched her reverse and then drive away, feeling unbelievably sorry for the misery he'd caused her. She was a good person, a friend, who he'd driven away because of his personal issues. He would always love her, in a way, because she'd proven something to him.

She'd proved to him that he wasn't over Kate, not by a long shot.

And now he had to go and get her back.

**A.N - Yes, another Jate story from me. Back to You has been such a great success so far and I hope people who reviewed and loved that, will review and love this. This is a short chapter, I know, but they will get longer. Jack's reasons for getting together with Juliet will be fully explained, although I think I've done well in doing that here, and we will learn what Kate and the other's have been up to! Hope you like anyway! Enjoy! I think you can understand from the context when the non-flashback part took place, but in case it's not clear, it's set three years from when he left.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Return

_Chapter 2: The Return_

_They walked in sync with each other, both deep in thought. _

_Jack raised his head a little, to examine the submarine they were now approaching. Under the guarded moonlight, it looked ghostly and mysterious; something he was actually quite apprehensive about boarding now. It was a long, sleek piece of engineering; metallic grey in colour which glistened silver in the moonlight._

_He glanced at Juliet, whose expression was unfathomable, as usual. If he had to read any deeper, he would've guessed she was trying not to get her hopes up after having them dashed for so long. He felt for her, he really did, and part of him knew that if rescue hadn't been an option for either of them, he would've taken her back to camp with him. Honestly, she was probably his closest ally right about now._

"_Here we are then," Tom announced, staring at both of them. "Can't say we're entirely pleased to let you both go but…a deal's a deal."_

_He extended a hand to Juliet, who reluctantly took it despite the fact she was clearly desperate to get on the submarine now that it was in range. Tom extended the same courtesy to Jack, who shook it only after a moment's pause. _

"_One more thing," he said, as a sudden thought, fixing his eyes on Tom's, which wasn't easy as the man was near enough a giant. "The rest of my people…"_

"_Yeah? What about 'em?" Tom asked, folding his arms._

"_I want you to leave them alone," Jack said simply. "I think you've done enough to them. I'm not asking for an extension on the deal; this is just a request. One man to another."_

_Tom stared at him with unfathomable eyes. Then, he released a great boom of a laugh, which echoed across the dock and into the night. _

"_Fair play to you, Jack," he said, grinning. "You were all we wanted anyway - Austen and Ford were only taken to ensure you behaved. We never meant to terrorise your people, Jack." His grin faded. "Everything we did, we did 'cause we needed you. Plus we were just so darn curious about you all."_

"_That night," Jack said slowly. "That night, when you held Kate hostage, why didn't you just take me then? You had her hostage; I would've gone with you. Why not then? Why only now?"_

"_Because you weren't ready, Jack. You didn't know enough about us to form an opinion on whether or not you should've helped us," Tom explained, his eyes narrowing slightly as he recalled that night. "And besides, I got a feeling if we had taken you, we would've had a full scale riot on our hands. Your friends would not have let you go without a fight. We couldn't risk starting a war. Plus, we needed to be sure."_

"_Sure of what?" Jack asked, fearing the answer._

"_We needed to be sure you would do anything for her," Tom said, evaluating his expression carefully. "We figured mission accomplished the moment you put those guns down for her, even though I could see you had absolutely no intention of doing so."_

_Jack lowered his head, his heart clenching at the fact they were talking about Kate. He loathed himself for watching her crumble and then walking away like it didn't matter. She'd been his ally and had stood by him, even throughout all the stupid decisions he'd made. He owed her so much more than a hasty goodbye. But the truth was he'd been so angry at her for leading him on, for kissing him in the damn jungle, for making him believe she actually cared for him only for her to pull the carpet out from underneath his feet by sleeping with Sawyer. Talk about sending mixed signals…_

"_Anyway…" It was clear Tom was getting uncomfortable. "I best be heading back to Ben, let him know you both are on the sub."_

_Jack nodded, his throat constricted with raw emotion he was still dealing with. He nodded towards a clearly impatient Juliet and the two of them walked towards the submarine, neither of them daring or wanting to look back._

"_You ok?" Juliet asked softly, gazing up at him._

_He didn't know how to answer her. He felt physically sick at leaving - and that was probably down to a certain brunette he'd left behind. But he needed to leave. He was sick of the island and sick of being a failure. _

"_Come on. Let's get you home," he said softly._

_She smiled widely at him._

"_Are we really going home?" she asked, hardly daring to believe she was, after three long years, finally getting off the island and away from Ben._

"_We're really going home," he replied, wishing those words could have a positive effect on him._

_They approached the submarine and Jack nudged Juliet forwards, ensuring she was the first on board. Juliet put her foot inside the opening of the submarine, trying to find the first step, and then climbed her way down inside the submarine._

_Jack hesitated before following her. He looked back - something he swore he wouldn't do - and couldn't help wishing Kate was coming here too. He was hurt though and confused, not that that was an excuse to hurt her back. He envisioned her face, scrunched up as she fought back the tears, her soft face distorted with worry lines, slumped on the ground with despair. _

_He immediately regretted doing so, feeling selfish for the sudden burst of pain which made his whole stomach churn. _

_He had no right to feel like this when he was the one who'd hurt her. _

_He stared out the ocean, at the midnight blue, and inhaled deeply. He would be back with her soon, he reminded himself. He was going home to get rescue for the people he left behind and then, and only then, would he be able to make things right with her._

_And with that thought, he clambered in after Juliet and tried - and failed - to get her out of her mind and, in that sense, it was like she was with him all the way home._

X-X-X

He stumbled into his flat, and headed straight for the liquor cabinet.

He took out a bottle - he was too far gone to understand which one he'd picked - and poured it into the glass, before resting the glass against his lips, conjuring up an image of her in his mind so it made it easier to tip back the glass and let the toxic chemical slide down his throat.

Jack slid to the floor and wondered how he'd managed to get himself home. He was such a mess. The floor was littered with empty bottles of pills he couldn't even remember getting; there was a sickly smell of alcohol and the failed cooking experiment he'd tried earlier, and the walls were a pasty colour which he couldn't remember ever being appealing to him.

He finished the glass and chucked it to the side, barely flinching when the glass smashed against the wall. With trembling, spidery fingers, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the mug shot of Kate_. _He'd kept it, even during his brief marriage to Juliet, holding onto it just as proof that she actually existed. As his alcohol dependency grew, the distinction between reality and fantasy had blurred into an intangible mess and the picture had helped, somewhat, in un-blurring it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered at the picture, as if she could somehow hear him. "I'm so sorry I broke my promise, Kate."

He began to sob weakly, scrunching up the paper and clutching it to his face as if hoping it would breathe life into his body again. He was so broken, he was beyond fixing. These past three years had been a disaster, and what was worse was that he couldn't escape it. Little things would come back to haunt him; not just about Kate but about the other survivors.

It had started with little things, like hearing Driveshaft on the radio singing the song he remembered Charlie always bellowed at him if he thought he was interested, or hearing someone cuss the phrase 'son of a bitch' in someone else's direction. Then, eventually, it had grown, to the point where he started talking to random people like they were the people he'd known on the island.

There was this woman in a supermarket, who, he swore down, was Kate's doppelganger. She had the same set of auburn curls, the same pull to her lips which made her look vulnerable at the same time she was trying to be tough, the same tilt to her head which made her look speculative and flirtatious at one and the same time…

It almost drove him mad to realise on closer inspection they looked nothing alike. The stranger had similar hair and that was it - the rest of her features he'd claimed had been similar, if not the same, as Kate's was just a trick of the mind.

She was driving him crazy…and she wasn't even here!

Jack knew he couldn't continue this way. He was haunted by her memory, and she wasn't even dead, and each day he spent drinking or taking pills was wearing him down. He no longer recognized himself…not that the beard helped. He didn't even know why he'd grown it; it could've been because he was past caring about what he looked like, or just because he wanted to look as different as he could from the man who had been capable of leaving her behind.

He'd been suicidal a couple of times, he wasn't going to lie. He'd driven to the same bridge a couple of times and had stood there, his head tilted back so he was staring at the sky, asking for answers he knew he would never get, his feet square apart as if ready for the final launch which would send him to his death.

But something had always pulled him back. He would've liked to have believed it was Kate who pulled him back, except he knew that there was a part of him which was fighting to get back in control, fighting to change things so that he could regain his sanity. It was just hard to believe how much time could change a person.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and, out of only a vague sort of curiosity, he picked it up. It was a text message, one from an unfamiliar number. He decided to ignore it, and settled for another drink, this time straight from the neck of the bottle.

Maps lay scattered around him, every single one of them marked with scribbles as he tried to figure out where the island could've been. He wasn't naïve, nor stupid, enough to believe getting on a flight on the same flight path he'd taken before but he couldn't figure out how to get back.

He'd started this obsession back when he'd still been married to Juliet. After a particularly arduous argument, he'd started poring over maps and stuff, trying to figure out if the island was listed anywhere or whether there was any clue as to where it was. He'd listed a few useful contacts down - one of which was a Penelope Widmore - but he'd not been able to get a hold of them. Penelope's number seemed to be a European number, and so he'd not tried again after that, figuring even if he could get hold of her she wouldn't be of much help.

Juliet had walked in at one point and he'd reacted quickly, closing down the web pages with lightning speed, but he hadn't accounted for the user history. When confronted about it, he confessed he was still thinking about the island and consequently spent the night on the couch.

His phone buzzed again.

"Go away," he mumbled, closing his eyes and yearning to sleep.

He finished the bottle he was drinking out of, rolled it away from him, and pushed himself to his feet to make himself something to eat. After his disastrous meeting with Juliet, who he was pretty sure would never talk to him again, he felt even lower than before. Getting together had been a huge mistake. Both of them had been hung up on other things - for him, Kate, for her, freedom. She'd walked out of one cell only to be imprisoned in another.

He flicked on the television absent-mindedly, settling for an old rerun of a an equally old TV show just for something to do. He was fed up of simply staring around the room like a gormless fool, but he was too drunk to do anything. The more he drank, the more he realised he was becoming like his father and the more he wanted to stop but couldn't.

He was spiralling out of control and he knew it.

Jack leaned his head against the wall and realised he needed to clean up his act, if he ever wanted to get his head clear enough to figure out how to get back to her. Well, it wasn't so much getting back to the island but rather getting back to _her_.

He allowed his brain to envision that day when they'd come home, when they'd both taken tentative steps off the submarine, still drowsy from the drugs they'd been given, and stared at the real world like they'd never seen it before.

X-X-X

"_Land ahoy," the captain of the submarine yelled, which woke up Jack from his apparent slumber._

_He felt groggy and drained, like he'd completed a marathon or some form of extreme sport. As he attempted to sit up, he noticed how heavy his body felt and began to panic a little, only relaxing when his feet touched the ground._

_He hadn't realised he'd been on a bunk bed. After being handed a glass of water, he didn't remember much else other than getting on the submarine. He glanced at the top of the bunk bed and saw Juliet was slowly coming to life._

"_Ugh…" she groaned, sitting up slowly. "I hate this part."_

_Jack chuckled. "You feel rough as well?"_

"_Yeah," she said, glancing at him through bleary eyes. "Is it obvious?"_

_He helped her get down, chuckling again when he saw her legs start to shake. He slipped his hand in hers just so she could regain her balance and found it almost…comforting. He'd started out hating her, purely because of what she was, and now she'd become his closest ally. How did that happen? _

_They climbed up and out of the sub, both of them getting excited despite themselves because they could see the sky and knew that they were home. It was impossible to believe but it was true. _

_He was surprised that neither of them released each other's hand. It seemed to be a comfort thing, like a blanket to a child. He stared into her eyes, noticing the beads of emotion which had sprung to the corner of her eyes. He'd only really started noticing her for what she was - a real person, with feelings - the moment after they'd failed to save Colleen. She'd seemed so broken, yet resigned - she must've been used to seeing death - and he'd instantly changed his judgement of her. _

"_What now?" Juliet asked now, turning to meet his gaze._

"_I don't know," he confessed. "I can't…I can't go back home. Not yet, anyway. The press will be all over me, asking me where the other survivors are and I just… I'm not up to that."_

"_We'll go to my sister's then," Juliet decided. "She lives in this quiet little house in Miami."_

"_Isn't Miami like the party state?" he asked, raising an eyebrow._

"_Maybe," she said, grinning. "But it's quiet if you know where to look. She lives in my old house, which is set apart from anywhere busy, crowded. It'll be perfect."_

"_Perfect," he echoed, looking uncertain. _

_They sighed as one, turning to watch the submarine submerge out of sight. It was like an exorcism of sorts, watching the last sort of relic of the island disappear before them. They felt…free. _

"_Wait a second," Jack said suddenly, remembering something. "We've got to get the others rescued. That should be our main priority…"_

_He started making plans in his head, silently listing people he could contact who might be useful, but Juliet's expression stopped him in his tracks. She seemed to be looking sympathetically at him, in a way which made him feel annoyed._

"_What?" he couldn't help snapping. _

"_There's a reason why you were never rescued sooner Jack," she said quietly, her eyes fixed on his, silently trying to reason with him. "The island, I don't know how, is difficult to find if you're not looking for it. And even if you are, there's miles of ocean to cover. There's no guarantee we could find it again, or anybody for that matter. And who's going to listen anyway? An island that isn't on any map? It's gonna sound crazy."_

"_We can't just leave them there!" Jack cried, grabbing her shoulders as if to shake some sense into her. "My friends - My friends are there! Kate's there! I - I promised her I'd come back for her!"_

"_I know." Juliet blinked back tears. "I know, Jack. I know what it's like to make a promise you think you can keep, then find yourself breaking it. I promised I'd be back in time to see my sister's baby being born. I missed it. He's now three and I - I missed all that. For all I know, she could hate me. What can I say to her? That I was trapped against my will? She would tell me I should've called the police. She'll think I abandoned her for my job."_

_Jack fell silent, suddenly feeling ashamed of his prejudices against her. He'd harped on about getting away, whereas she'd been singing that tune for three years, trapped in the clutches of a madman. They were more alike than he'd first figured._

_Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. She fell into it and the two of them just stood there, arms locked around each other against the backdrop of an uncertain future. _

X-X-X

He was interrupted in his thoughts by his phone…only this time it was ringing.

With clumsy, almost oafish hands, he fumbled for it, just making out the number on the screen. It wasn't one he recognized, although his contact list was fairly short anywhere, mainly consisting of patients he needed to keep in contact with, members of staff he was on good terms with, and the odd service number. He wondered who would be calling him at this hour, and the motive behind it. Most of his friends had been pushed away by his deteriorating behaviour, leaving him utterly alone in the world.

"Hello?" he croaked, noticing whoever was on the end of this phone call sounded nervous, if their breathing was anything to go by.

"Hello, Jack."

His eyes widened with shock - he knew that voice. He hadn't heard that voice in three years, more or less, and it shocked him to the core. As he struggled for a response, he felt something creep down his cheek, taking its sweet time as it sauntered down his flesh into the wilderness that was his beard.

It was a tear.

He clutched the phone closer to his ear, craving to listen to more, but the person on the other end disconnected. The phone buzzed shortly afterwards, however, and he opened up the text message and read it eagerly, focusing all his energy on the five little words on the screen.

_Meet me L.A. harbour now. _

**A/n: Thanks for the reviews guys! Who could that caller be? Who would you like it to be? I've got a few ideas who it is, and each one is a surprise. Keep reading and reviewing! You guys are fantastic!**


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